


He Brings Me Sugar

by rockhoochie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Begging, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Dom Dean, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Knifeplay, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Original Character Death(s), Porn With Plot, Self-Medication, Smut, Song Lyrics, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-24 00:30:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12001176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockhoochie/pseuds/rockhoochie
Summary: After losing her sister to a demon, Lexi moves into the bunker with Sam and Dean. As she fixates on finding the demon that killed her sister, the brothers groom her for hunting. When Sam and Castiel find the demon and go hunt it down without her, Lexi is left to let out her frustrations on Dean.





	He Brings Me Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the warning tags! If I've missed anything, please let me know.
> 
> This was originally based off of an Imagine prompt, but quickly took on a life of its own.
> 
> The title is from a song by Tori Amos called "Sugar", simply because it was running through my head whenever I would work on this. I have also taken extreme liberties with the song "Happiness Is A Warm Gun" by The Beatles (because that's what my muse wanted and I am at her mercy). If you haven't herd either song, I highly suggest you give them a listen! Links to both lyrics and YouTube audio below:
> 
> ['Sugar' Lyrics](http://www.yessaid.com/lyrics/1992littleearthquakes/sugar.html),  
> ['Sugar' Audio](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZrZM288Z_g)  
> ['Happiness Is A Warm Gun' Lyrics](https://www.thebeatles.com/song/happiness-warm-gun)  
> ['Happiness Is A Warm Gun' Audio](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KRknJTN_Yac)
> 
> Certain details have been kept in this work should I decide to continue with it.
> 
> As always, comments, concrit, and kudos are very much appreciated! I'm crippling with self-doubt with this one!
> 
> Thank you for reading!

I needed to get the hell out of this car.

The last hunt had been intense. It was supposed to be a simple salt and burn, but the sprit had been exceptionally strong and incredibly pissed off. Sam had gone off to the cemetery where the corpse was buried, leaving Dean and I to fight the thing. After it blew out our salt circle, the spirit had grabbed me by the ankles, whipping me across the room before Dean was able to get a good blast at it with a rock salt bullet. After Sam torched the bones and the ghost’s form went up in flames, Dean practically had to carry me out as one of my ankles seared in pain.

I knew the boys were happy to catch a break too. After coming back to bunker from hours on the road and a night in one of the skeeviest motel rooms we had ever been in, it was good to be getting back to the closest thing any of us could call a home.

Dean and I had been bickering on and off for several hours, and constantly during the last hour of the drive. He had been driving like a maniac for miles, refusing to play anything but Motorhead on the radio, ate the last of the snacks, and was just acting like a brooding oaf in general. I was making sure to tell him how I felt about it every twenty minutes or so, and Dean made sure to tell me exactly how much he valued my opinions. Sam had done a fairly decent job drowning us out with his earbuds, but once his phone battery died, the only soundtrack he got to listen to was mine and Dean’s cacophonic symphony of bitching. By the time Sam had finally lost his patience and screamed at us to shut the hell up, we were just turning down the road that led to the bunker.

Sam, Dean and I had immediately made beelines to our rooms when we finally got back, just as the sun was starting to rise.

Once in my room, I tossed my gear bag unceremoniously down on the worn wooden floor. I couldn’t stand the thought of going through it now, unpacking, cleaning weapons, and doing laundry. I sat on the edge of my bed, sighing in relief to have my ass on something other than the leather bench seat of the Impala. Catching a reflection of myself in the mirror above my desk, I barely recognized myself. My long, dark hair was greasy, halfway out of the messy bun I had tried to contain it with. The circles under my eyes seemed to tint themselves darker with each passing second. While I scraped at some dried blood that had crusted on my forehead, I noticed a smudge of something black and sticky (I didn’t even want to think about what that was from) decorating my jawline. My eyes clamped shut as I let out a labored breath full of frustration and sheer exhaustion. There was no way I was getting in my bed without a shower. With a grunt, I pushed myself up back onto my feet. I grabbed my shower caddy, some pajamas, and a towel from my dresser drawer and headed down the winding halls to the shower room.

The sound of running water met me at the door. I opened it a bit, just wide enough to poke my head in, my ears immediately assaulted with a desecrated version of Cherry Pie.

Dean. Dammit.

“Hey,” I shouted, ‘you guys both in here?’

“Just me, darlin’!”

“Ugh…I’m disgusting! Are you gonna be much longer?”

“Depends on how long you keep bugging me about it!”

Ass.

“Fine, I’ll wait outside.”

I shut the door, leaned against the wall, and slid down to sit on the floor. My eyes were fighting me as I willed them to stay open, my ankle was still a bit painful, and every aching muscle in my body was begging to be submerged in hot water. I started tapping my foot to keep myself awake while I waited for Dean to come out.

Waiting…and waiting…and waiting…

I got up and opened the door again.

“Dean! Come on, what are you doing in there?”

“Woo, wouldn’t you like to know sweetheart!”

I was ready to scream. Fuck this.

I opened the door all the way and barged in. I could see Dean’s upper half over the ledge of the third shower stall, covered in bubbles.

“Hey, what the hell Lexi?!” he bellowed.

“Look, I’m exhausted. I’m tired of waiting for you to finish up, I’m filthy, and I’m going to take a shower whether you’re in here or not and whether you like it or not.”

I got in the first stall, leaving two stalls between us. Once I was sure he couldn’t see any of me, I began stripping out of my grimy hunting clothes.

“Well, I was here first,” he grumbled.

“Whatever. It’s not like you’ve never seen a naked woman’s body before. Deal with it.”

I turned to look at him. He was resting his forearms over the ledge of his stall, that same look in eyes that he gave every cute waitress in a roadside diner. I half expected him to belt out one of his cheesy pickup lines.

“I’ve never seen yours,” he said suggestively, grinning like an idiot.

I laughed out loud. “Ha! Winchester, you wouldn’t even know what to do with me”

He mumbled something as I turned on the shower, stuck my head under the water and let it flow all over me. Dean had told me the first night I came to the bunker that the water pressure in the showers was marvelous – at least he was right about that. I lost myself in the warmth, feeling the dirt and blood and god-knows-what-else skim off my skin, as I flexed and extended every muscle I could to stretch them out.

Dean had found it in himself to finish cleaning up quickly. I stole a few quick glances at him as he rinsed away the soap, turned off his shower and stepped out of the stall with a towel wrapped around his waist. As he walked towards me, I glanced at his broad shoulders that connected to some fairly sculpted biceps, his firm chest muscles that accentuated the strength in his upper body, his tight abs that edged the slight v-line of his waist…

“See something you like?” he asked me, jolting me back to attention. He had one eyebrow cocked and a much-too-satisfied-with-himself smirk on his lips.

Shit, I wasn’t glancing I was staring.

I opened my mouth to make some kind of witty retort, but he had left the room before I’d had the chance, slamming the door behind him. I breathed out hard, irritated with myself for staring at him, irritated that he caught me staring at him, and irritated that I had kind of enjoyed staring at him. Who was I kidding, Dean was gorgeous – even though he could really drive me crazy sometimes. It was almost like he knew exactly how to get under my skin. Pushing the thoughts away, I slipped back into the enveloping warmth of the water, soaking, shaving, and scrubbing.

On the way back to my room, a silhouette of a bottle sitting on the steel island in the kitchen caught my attention.

“Hello, beautiful” I said out loud, cradling the scotch in my hands.

I unscrewed the cap, raised it to my lips and took a huge mouthful. It burned down my throat, but I felt the tingle of that warmth only alcohol could produce spread through me like a soothing fire. I shuddered as the after-taste hit me – give me whiskey any day, I hated scotch – but it tasted better than the last few days and the gut-tingling thoughts I’d had as I stared at Dean in the shower. The bunker was dead quiet, thank god. I took one more pull on the bottle before screwing the cap back on, feeling more relaxed and slightly flushed while I walked down the winding hallway back to my room.

My ankle was still throbbing. Reaching into my gear bag, I pulled out a plastic prescription bottle. Sam had managed to find some painkillers somewhere – he had given them to me the night we killed the spirit. I took one out, hesitating before I swallowed it – maybe taking it with two huge shots of scotch wasn’t a great idea. Deciding I didn’t care and that I was reasonably sure nothing too horrible would come from it, I swallowed it down.

Tossing the top blanket back from the bed, I threw myself down onto the mattress like it was an old lover’s body. Wrapping my arms around the pillow and wriggling and nestling like a cat against the sheets, I prayed for sleep to come quickly and mercifully. I was so tired that I didn’t even bother to try to get the image of Dean’s bare chest and cocky smirk out of my head as I finally drifted off.

***

_She’s not a girl who misses much…_

The crisp sound of the blade slowly tearing through the apple echoes through the quiet of the kitchen. My hips are swaying in rhythm as I sing, making deliberate slices with the bevel of Ruby’s Knife, each piece of the fruits flesh paper thin and perfect, identical.

_Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo…oh yeah…_

His hands are on my hips from behind – large, rough – I can feel their strength through the fabric of my red cocktail dress. The guide my movements, keeping time with my melody and my tempo, singing and swaying and slicing.

_She’s well acquainted with a touch of a velvet hand like a lizard on a window pane…_

Leaving my hips, I feel palms around my waist, pulling me backwards, gently, into his chest. His movement scales upwards, fingers now touching my breasts, kneading, teasing. Hot breath against my neck, mouth on my flesh, kissing, licking, tasting…

_Man in the crowd with the multicolored mirrors on his hobnail boots…_

“Stop” he says.

I quit midway through a slice and lay the knife on the stainless-steel table. My head tilts back and I soften against him as he takes my hand, raising it above my head and back, guiding me to touch his hair…my fingers tangle, pulling, urging him into my neck, his kisses becoming quicker and hotter, teeth graze my skin…I moan against him, I want more, I need more…

He stops abruptly, pushing me forward. I steady myself against the table, gripping the edge of the cold metal as I feel him grind his hard cock against me as I sway and sing, his chest flush against my back, heart thrumming.

_Lying with eyes while his hands are busy working overtime…_

His hands slide down my arms, one reaches for the blade, clenches the handle, the other gathering and brushing my hair off to one side. The point of the knife rests gently at the base of my skull, grazing downwards, past the back of my neck, resting between my shoulder blades. He tugs at the top of my dress, gathering the material, using the blade to slice through the fabric, lazily, deliberately…

Fabric slithers down my shoulders, chest, torso, legs, gathering in a pool of crimson at my feet. I’m completely naked, the cool air sending a shiver through me, my skin prickles, nipples hardening…but warmth radiates from the apex of my thighs and the heat feels slick…I need him.

_The sole confession of his wife which he ate and donated to the national trust…_

Ruby’s knife clatters on the floor. He grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling me sharply against him, I hiss at the sensation of force and the buttons on his shirt and the tickle of his tie soft against my heated skin.

“Shhh…hush, baby girl...” His tongue tracing the outline of me ear, his teeth catch my earlobe, his hand travels further down my waist, further and further, brushing the place that’s aching for friction, for his touch, for him.

His voice is broken glass and gravel in throat, he growls in my ear, “ _I need a fix cause I’m goin’ down…_ ”

A thick finger finds my clit and releases the groan building in my throat. He circles, he strokes, two fingers push deep inside me, twisting, exploring. I feel the smooth metal edge of the ring he wears brush my entrance with every thrust…

“I love how wet I make you, kitten” he whispers…

I shudder in pleasure, his fingers pumping as I rock against his hand, grind against his palm…

He hums in approval, “you love this, don’t you sweetheart? Love my fingers fucking you…fucking your tight, soaking cunt…

I cry out when his fingers hit that spot, that place deep inside that sends fire through my cells, makes my stomach tighten and the ache pulse as he winds me tighter and tighter and I’m tensing, I can feel it, I want to explode….

His movements stop.

“No” he scolds.

My chest is heaving, my throat dry, a soft wail feathers across my lips…I’m whirled around to face him, the forest green of his eyes burning, adhering to my gaze. He grips my waist hard.

“Do you really think you’ve earned it? Do you think you deserve to come?” he croons.

“Dean,” I whimper, “please, I need you…”

His lips crash against mine, mouth opening, tongue gliding across my lips until I let him in. Our mouths move in rhythm, tongues entwining, he’s now holding my head in place, kissing me hard, swallowing the moans that escape my throat.

His lips pull away, his hands grab my shoulders. I’m turned around again, apples scatter to the floor. He pushes me forward and down, my breasts against the cool steel, arms spread outward, hands gripping the opposite edge of the table.

“Spread your legs, kitten”

I open myself wider and I hear the clink of his belt coming undone, the zipper of his dress pants sliding down. He kneads the muscles of my back from top to bottom, taking extra time when he reaches my ass, rubbing and caressing each cheek, and I’m writhing against the table, against his hands. He smacks one cheek hard and fast, I groan loudly, savoring the sting. He’s leaning against me, gliding his thick cock against my folds, teasing, torturing, I need him…

“Do you want this?” the tip of his length is at my entrance.

“Please, Dean, fuck me…”

And he pushes into me, inch by inch, into my heat until he’s buried deep, my walls enveloping him. He moves, building a tempo, setting a pace, fucking me hard and deep, faster and faster with each thrust, two fingers circling against my clit…

“Who do you belong to?’

“You.”

“Who’s going to make you come?”

“You.”

“I want to hear my name when I make you scream”

He’s grunting praises as he fucks me, and his name tumbles from my lips, first a whisper, then a plea, then an insistence as he hits that spot over and over…I teeter on the edge again, that coil of heat tightening, god please, it needs to snap. My shoulders are shaking hard, I hear my name being called from a distance and I scream his name over and over in return as I chase my release…

***

“Lexi, Lexi! Wake up!”

Sam’s huge hands were on my shoulders, gripping me tightly.

I sat up with a gasp.

“Heyheyhey, shh…it’s okay, you’re okay…” he said, soothingly.

“Sam, hey, I’m…sorry…what – what’s going on?” I asked. My mouth was dry, and I suddenly felt cold as the sweat covering my body evaporated into the air.

He sat down next to me. “I heard you screaming and calling out, I thought something was wrong. I came in here and you were thrashing around…”

Heat crept up cheeks as the recollection of my dream came back full force and I tried to gain control of my rapid breathing.

“No, I’m fine, I just…umm…I was having a nightmare.”

“A nightmare about my brother?”

“What?”

“You were practically screaming his name - I heard you all the way from the kitchen…

I watched the look of realization slowly appear on his face.

Shit, shit, shit.

Now I couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Yeah, ah…Crowley had him and…demons had me and…” I trailed off, too flustered and bewildered to continue the lie.

Sam snickered quietly.

“What?” I snapped.

“Nothing, nothing, I’m just…I’m glad you’re okay. Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m okay. Thanks for coming to my rescue,” I answered, smiling sheepishly.

With a nod, Sam got up and left, closing the door behind him.

My head hit the pillow hard as I lay back down, palpable desire still throbbing between my legs. I squirmed, determined to ignore it and try to get a little more sleep. Minutes passed but the ache remained, distracting me, causing sleep to remain elusive.

Inching my legs apart, I let a finger trail down my stomach and down to my clit, the slight pressure sending a jolt of need through me. Knowing I had reached a point of no return, I touched myself, spreading my slick around my folds and stroking my sensitive nub of nerves. The memory of Dean dream-fucking me consumed my thoughts as I grabbed a breast with my other hand, pinching my already hard nipple. I came quickly and quietly, my walls clenching around nothing but the thought of his hard cock inside of me.

What the hell was that?

________________________

I had been living with Sam and Dean for about six months now, ever since my life had been turned completely and insanely upside down. Ever since my house had been burned down by a demon. Ever since that same demon had possessed my sister Anna, and made her snap her own neck…

It had just been Anna and me. Our parents were gone, killed in a car accident almost two years ago. Anna had resolved to stay home with me after our parents’ funeral. They had left the house to us in their will – rather than try to deal with selling it, we moved in. Although sometimes painful, living again in our childhood home, surrounded by our parents’ possessions and essence was comforting in its own bittersweet way.

Sam had been only halfway through the exorcism when Anna was killed. Dean had been holding me from behind as I simply cried and screamed for sister. I watched, helpless and confused and terrified as the demon glared me with eyes black as obsidian. It cackled with Anna’s voice, and unceremoniously twisted her head almost the whole way around. The demon left her then, in a thick black vine of smoke, reeking of sulfur, making the most wretched squealing sound I had ever heard. Dean’s grip loosened on me as her body hit the floor. I had run over to Anna and held her, stroking her hair as my tears fell into her open, dead eyes, not caring that the flames licking the walls were gaining more and more strength. Sam had yelled repeatedly at Dean to get me out; Dean had to coax and scream and pry me away from Anna. He had dragged me out of the burning house – literally kicking and screaming – as I watched Sam pour a copious amount of rock salt over my sister’s corpse.

Once Dean had gotten us a safe distance away and Sam had run out of the burning house, everything I had left in me vanished as I collapsed on the street. The brothers stayed with me the entire time, through the police and fireman interrogations, through the paramedic examination. The EMT’s kept telling me how lucky I was. I kept silently telling them to go fuck themselves.

Once the fire was out, I was deemed unharmed, and Anna’s body had been wheeled away, all I could do was tremble, and repeatedly ask Sam and Dean what hell happened, what’s going on, what was that thing. They tried their best to calm me and explain everything to me. My head swam along with my tears as they told me that monsters were real, that they were hunters – the kind of hunters that kill the things that everyone else dismissed as fairy tales. They told me were demons real, angels were too, but God had left the building…and vampires and werewolves and even dragons absolutely existed outside of nightmares. At first, I thought they were insane, or that everything that had happened had caused me to go off the deep end.

They took me to their car, a black ’67 Impala, and showed me the contents of the trunk. Guns, knives, bullets, a goddamn machete…and their father’s journal. Dean opened the leather-bound book and flipped the pages slowly as I peered at them, hand drawn pictures of awful creatures with pages of handwritten information about each one – what is was, where it came from, and how to kill it.

Despite the obvious proof, I maintained the position that either I was losing my mind or they were certifiable lunatics. Deep down I knew it was all true - nothing else could explain it. The weight of accepting that truth crushed anything that remained of my heart that night.

That demon had destroyed the only home and family had left. The only thing I was able to walk away with were the clothes on my back and the necklace I wore – a heart-shaped silver pendant with a single diamond embedded near the top, a single silver angel wing decorating the right side, and the words “Big Sister” engraved in simple print. Anna had one that matched – the only difference was the angel wing on the left side, and the engraved phrase “Little Sister”. We had found them in our mother’s closet, already wrapped in Christmas paper, tucked away amongst other gifts and boxes. Mom had always called us her angels on earth.

One of the EMTs had slipped Anna’s necklace into my hand. I slid the pendant off the chain, and joined it with my own. I silently promised my sister revenge. Whatever it took, wherever I had to go, I was going to destroy the thing that murdered her or die trying. I hadn’t taken it off since that night, using it as a reminder of the promise I made and fully intended to keep.

When Sam asked me if I had someone to call or someone I could stay with, I had shaken my head “no”. I had some friends out of state I could’ve called, but I couldn’t even bring myself to consider leaving. I needed answers about what had happened to Anna, and I was hellbent on getting revenge. I had told them I’d get a hotel for now, but Sam said he didn’t feel comfortable just leaving me alone. The demon was still out there somewhere and chances were it was going to come at me next.

That night they brought me to the bunker.

I sat at the library table in silence, watching Dean unpack his gear while Sam got a room ready for me.

“Hey,” Dean had said, “When’s the last time you ate anything?”

“I’m not hungry,” I mumbled.

“Not what I asked you.”

“I don’t know, sometime yesterday…”

Dean walked into the kitchen, leaving me to stare at the strange arsenal he had laid out in front of me - a sawed-off shotgun, several knives, and flasks of holy water.

He returned with a small plate and a fork, setting a piece of cherry pie in front of me.

“I’d rather have a drink,” I had mumbled.

“Pie first,” he demanded.

I cut a small piece, I forcing myself to take one small bite after another until I finished it, trying to at least find some comfort in the sweetness. I licked the last of the thick filling off of my fork, and ran my finger along the sides of my lips to clean off any trace that may have remained.

When I looked up, I found Dean staring at me, his lips parted, his green eyes fixed on me.

“What is it?” I asked. “Is there some on my face?”

He blinked with a slight shake of his head and leaned back in his chair.

“No,” he said. “I just…I’m sorry for everything you went through tonight. I know how it is to lose family, and…”

“Thanks,” I whispered.

“Here,” he said, handing me a silver flask. “You can have that drink now”.

 

I had stayed in my room for three days after I got there, only leaving to use the bathroom. For the most part, Sam and Dean gave me my space. Sam would knock twice a day, come in and bring me food. Sometimes we would make small talk. Sometimes we would just sit there in silence, until he would put a movie on for me. He’d hold me while I cried, listen calmly when I screamed. Sam quickly became like a big brother to me.

Dean had been present, but had kept himself fairly distant. On the morning of my third day at the bunker, I woke to find a pint of Jack Daniels and slice of cherry pie on my night stand. I knew that was from him. As great as Sam was about being attentive to my emotions, Dean knew what I didn’t know I really needed – sugar and booze. I washed down the pie with the whiskey, and spent the rest of the day getting blissfully drunk while watching old western movies.

On the fourth day, I finally came out of my room with a staggering hangover. That was the day I met Castiel, and experienced the glorious magic that was angelic healing. Cas had simply touched two fingers to my forehead, erasing the lingering physical pain I had from the night Anna died, healing the cuts and bruises covering my body. Even my hangover was gone. It was also the day I asked Sam and Dean to teach me everything they knew.

Sam read through lore and research with me, quizzing me on what the most common creatures were and how to kill them. He showed me the best places to look for the rare, odd things, and told me to who to call if I got stuck on something. I studied symbols, warding, summoning spells and credit card fraud. Sam was patient and warmhearted while he taught me, leading me to correct my own wrong answers and guiding me step-by-step as I practiced sketching Devil’s Traps. Sam quickly became like a big brother to me – that was the reason I picked him to take me to get the anti-possession tattoo on the back of my neck.

Dean led me in the more hands-on aspects of hunting. He taught me how to handle the guns, how to clean them, how to put them back together. He showed the different bullets, the rock salt shells and the witch killers. He gave me a hunting knife, a lock-pick kit, and finally my own glock.

We also spent time sparring, practicing hand to hand fighting. He never held back with me, saying that if I was going to have his or his little brother’s six, I’d better damn well know how to fight.

Dean was tough on me, critical, demanding perfection from everything he was trying to teach me. It was after about two weeks of this when we started grating on each other. The more comfortable I got around him, the more he learned that not only could I take it, but I could dish it right back to him. That seemed to piss him off, and I found myself secretly enjoying it.

One particular day in the shooting range we really had it out. I was holding my glock, trying to aim at the target and he would just not shut up. My stance was wrong, I wasn’t holding the gun the right way, what did I think this was, the goddamn movies? I finally snapped that day, screaming at him to get the fuck out of my face and back the hell off. I had stormed off, hiding myself in an archive room for the next several hours. When I finally returned to my room, there was a pint of Jack Daniels and a slice of pie sitting on my nightstand. By that time, I had learned how high pie was on Dean’s list of priorities – with a smile, I took the gesture as an apology.

After a couple of months, I went out on some simple hunts with them – a spirit here, a poltergeist there. Sam was proud of me. Dean was impressed. I wanted to do more. Despite my insistence and protestations, they left me behind on the more difficult hunts - vampire nests, werewolf packs, things that hunted in twos, or anything demon-related.

Whenever they left me behind, I resigned myself to trying to track down the demon that killed Anna. I looked for patterns, strange sightings, any hint that the thing was still around. Sam and Dean tortured any demon they came across to get information before destroying or exoring them. Not one of them knew anything, or if they did, they weren’t talking. Dean had even summoned Crowley to interrogate him. After Crowley spent an eternity talking in circles and flirting with me, he insisted he knew nothing about my sister, or which one of his minions may have killed her. He did however, offer to make finding it out for me his top priority in exchange for my soul. Dean had cursed at him for that, charging at him with his knife. Crowley vanished with a snap of his fingers before Dean could even get close to him.

I kept hunting, kept researching, kept hoping. I made it extremely clear to Sam and Dean that I was going to be the one to destroy that demon once it dared to show up again. They never protested, but never seemed too thrilled with the idea either.

It was comforting knowing I had people who had my back – hell, it was comforting to know that an actual angel had my back. Any time they left and hunted without me it filled me with dread. The Winchesters were the best at what they did, but if anything ever happened to them I’d be lost. I couldn’t imagine life without Sam, the brother I never had. I couldn’t even imagine life without Dean…the _Dean_ I never had.

____________________________

When I woke up, the clock on my phone read 4:00pm. The memory of my Dean dream immediately came rushing back. I buried my face in my hands, flustered by creation of my own subconscious. Trying to reason with myself, I chalked it up to just being one of those weird things – that and the fact that I hadn’t gotten laid in months. I instead made an attempt to focus on how Dean and I had been fighting in the car for hours, but that just made me feel guilty about driving Sam crazy…then embarrassed that he had woken me up from an erotic head-trip that featured his big brother in the starring role.

I got out of bed and made my way to Sam’s room

“Sam?” I opened the door slowly and nudged my head in.

Sam was sitting up in his bed, staring intently at his laptop screen, the second he saw me, he slammed it shut.

“Sorry,” I said, a sight giggle escaping me, “Watching some porn?”

He shot me a slightly indignant look.

“No, Lexi, I was not watching porn.” He set the laptop aside. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to apologize”.

“For what?”

“For Dean and I annoying you with our…playful banter during the trip home.”

Sam laughed. “I forgive you, trust me – I know how irritating he can be. But seriously…you two should really just get it over with.”

“Get what over with?”

Sam cocked his eyebrow and shot me a taunting look.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes, and feeling my cheeks flush ever so slightly.

“I’m pretty sure I’m the last one your brother wants to sleep with.”

“If you say so…”

The subject needed to change.

“Hey, why don’t you take a break from your research or whatever it is you’re so into on that laptop and have a movie night with me?”

“That sounds great, actually,” he said, smoothing his long hair back from his head. “What did you have in mind?”

“Lord of The Rings. And since we slept all day, we can probably watch all three,” I laughed.

“Great idea”. Sam’s cell phone buzzed, clamoring against his nightstand. He picked it up to check the caller ID. “Why don’t you go get the movie set up, I’ll come to your room after I take this”.

I nodded and let myself out Sam’s room, shutting the door behind me. Walking down the twisting hall of the dormitory, I found myself slowing and finally stopping in front of Dean’s room. Even though I felt a little awkward about him at the moment, I thought about knocking and asking him to join us. Telling myself that he was probably still sleeping, or still annoyed with me I propelled myself forward, swiftly making my way to my room. I needed a drink. Even though I just woke up, it was almost evening…

I ducked into the kitchen, walking past the stainless-steel table in front of the stove…the table Dean had bent me over and fucked me against in my dream…A twinge of arousal shot through me.

“Stop, stop, stop,” I whispered out loud, directing myself toward the refrigerator.

I had just pulled out two bottles of beer when I heard voices coming from the main room of the bunker. It sounded like Dean and Castiel. Curious, I made my way towards them.

Castiel’s crisp, curt monotone cut through the room.

“Dean, you must keep her here no matter what. If she were to follow us it would be catastrophic,”

“Seriously man, do not let her leave,” added Sam.

Dean was the next to chime in. “Yeah, I got her. Go get ‘em”.

When I had made my way into the room where they all stood, Sam glanced at me with a look mixed with apology, urgency, and conviction.

“Hey, what – “ I was cut off with a jab from Castiel’s ice blue eyes as he put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and zapped them away.

“What the hell? Dean, what’s going on?”

Dean turned to face me, wiping his grease-stained hands on an old shop towel. He must’ve been working on the Impala.

“Sam and Cas just had to go take care of something, “he said.

“What is it? I thought Sam was staying in tonight…”

“Why, you two have a hot date or something?” Dean chuckled. He looked me up and down, regarding the pajama shorts and tank top I was wearing. “Havin’ a slumber party? Gonna stay up all night and braid each other’s hair?”

God, he was a smart ass.

“Oh, ha ha,” I answered him flippantly. “Actually, we kinda had plans – he said he’d watch a movie with me.”

“And you didn’t invite me?” Dean made a pouty face. “I’m hurt”.

“Well, I didn’t want to bug you. And honestly, I figured _you’d_ have a hot date tonight – or at least be on your way out to finding one”

“Nah, think I’m gonna stay in tonight.”

“And babysit me?”

Dean studied my face carefully.

“Yes,” I said, “I heard them. What are those two up to?”

Something seemed off - it was strange for Sam to just run out on me like that, and Castiel always liked to talk with me anytime he stopped by.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, smearing a little grease on his skin, and shrugged. “They just had to check something out. They just wanted you to stay here and you know, recover. Make sure your ankle’s okay,”

“My ankle, really? Cas thought it’d be catastrophic if I left here with a sore ankle? Jesus, it was just a sprain,” I grumbled.

“Ah, you know Cas,” Dean said, winking at me. “He always makes things sound bigger and badder than they are with the way he talks”.

He was trying to hide it, but he seemed uneasy. There was something he wasn’t telling me. I knew better than to press him – I didn’t feel like ruining my night in by getting in a yet another snipping match with Dean Winchester.

I figured I may as well ask him to join me – he was fun to watch movies with, at least. And I did feel a little bad for being so bitchy to him in the car.

“Well, I’m heading to my room with these” I said, holding up one beer in each hand. “The first movie’s ready to go. Want to watch with me?”

“What’s playing?”

“Lord of the Rings”

Dean looked at me with contempt.

“Nah, I don’t wanna watch hobbits. I got a better idea.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“You’ll love it, trust me. I’m gonna get cleaned up and grab a drink.”

“I have two beers in my hands Dean”

“I want a real drink, sweetheart. Go on, I’ll be there in a minute.”

I made the walk back to my room, settled on my bed, and opened a beer.

While I waited for Dean, I thought about what Sam had said earlier, that Dean and I should “just get it over with”. Dean had never made a move beyond his usual flirting - was I missing something? I started to try and recall every moment Dean and I had shared together, sifting through the fighting and arguing, searching for something more meaningful. There had been that one time at the gun range when Dean was “correcting my stance”, his hands guiding my hips straight, patting the insides of my thighs to get me to open my legs wider, him standing with his chest pressed against my back, wrapping his arms around mine to straighten my aim. There was the day I had forgotten to bring my clothes into the showers with me, and had to walk past him in nothing but a towel. I had kept my eyes downward but I could feel him staring at me, sure that he had craned his neck around to continue watching after I passed him in the hallway. There was me staring at him in the showers today. Then there was the whiskey and the pie that would show up in my room on occasion, usually if we had argued…

Then I snapped myself out of overthinking things that weren’t there and wondered what the hell was taking him so long to fix himself a drink.

“Dean!” I shouted, “You’ve got two minutes or we’re watching hobbits!”

He finally showed up, glass of liquor in one hand, a DVD in the other. He had changed into pajama pants, a plain black t-shirt, his gray bathrobe tied loosely around him.

“Whiskey and Bruce Lee! “he announced, enthusiastically. “ _Way of the Dragon_ , baby.”

I smiled. My dad had loved Bruce Lee. _Way of the Dragon_ was one of the first memories of a movie I had.

“You’re forgetting the best thing about that movie…” I said.

“What?”

“Two words – Chuck Norris”.

Dean’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You can be a pretty awesome chick sometimes, Lexi.”

He put the movie in and climbed into the bed next to me, propping himself up against the headboard.

I picked up the remote, but paused before I hit ‘play’.

“You don’t think Sam and Cas will need us at all, do you?”

“Nah, they got this.”

“Got what exactly?”

Dean didn’t look at me when he answered.

“They’re just checking out some lead Cas had, don’t worry about it. Are you gonna start the freakin’ movie or what?”

“All right, all right”.

Being so close to Dean was making me nervous. Part of me was sure he could read my thoughts and knew everything I had dreamt about him, or maybe he had heard me screaming his name…for a second, I worried that Sam may have said something to him…

I took a huge swallow of my beer, slightly regretting that I hadn’t chosen something stronger. My stomach was fluttering and I was fidgeting. I needed to calm down.

Sliding off the bed, I grabbed my bag, digging inside for the bottle of pills. There were only three left. If I was being honest with myself, the pain in my ankle was tolerable, but I desperately needed to relax.

I took one out and swallowed it with more beer.

Dean regarded me with a disturbed look.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” he asked.

“What?”

“Washing down painkillers with booze?”

“I think it’s the most fabulous idea I’d had in a long time,” I sighed.

“Won’t that knock you out? You’ll miss Chuck Norris.”

“Nah, I slept all day – I’ll stay awake.”

Dean continued to stare at me with concern.

“Oh calm down,” I quipped. “It’s no worse than half a fifth in one night.”

“Touché, sweetheart,” he conceded, taking a sip from his glass.

We watched the movie in relative silence, laughing occasionally at the campiness of it.

I opened my second beer, relaxing more and more as the alcohol and the medicine rolled through me. Any awkwardness was completely gone – I felt loose, calm…not high out of my mind but finally pretty good for the first time in a long time.

“Hey Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry for being such a bitch in the car this morning.”

“You should be,” he said, smirking.

I backhanded him on his chest playfully.

“Hey now watch it, darlin’” he teased. “Guess I’m sorry too.”

He placed his hand on my thigh affectionately. I covered it with mine, studying his skin, his fingers…

“Did you ever wear a ring on this hand?” I asked.

He looked at me with a hint of surprise.

“Yeah, long time ago. Lost it a few years back. How’d you know?”

“I didn’t, just…wondered…”

My hand was still atop his. He gazed at me, as though he was searching for something in my eyes. His lips parted as he took in a breath.

He cleared his throat, slipping his hand out from under mine. Grabbing his glass, he tipped it back into mouth, draining it.

“I need another one,” he blurted. “You need anything?”

“Yeah, another beer, thanks.”

Dammit, I let my hand linger too long. I watched him disappear out of the room, worrying for a moment that he may not come back.

I sighed heavily, slightly annoyed with myself. Part of me was still pissed at Sam for bailing on me tonight. I tried to figure out where he and Cas could’ve gone, what lead they may have been following. Cas hadn’t mentioned anything recently, and no other cases had been discussed between the brothers and I when we were away on the last hunt. The only thing we had talked about was some information that Sam had gathered about the demon the killed Anna. He had said he was getting close to tracking its location and finding out the demon’s name…

My stomach dropped.

Before Dean could cross the threshold of my bedroom door, I gave him a stare that made him stop in his tracks.

“Dean,” I said insistently, “Where did Sam and Cas go”?

He waited a breath before answering me, staring down into the glass he held.

“I told you, they went to follow up on some research”.

“What research?”

“Some angel crap, nothing to worry about”.

He didn’t move. He was waiting for me to accept his answer, to let it go. A wave of anger was swelling inside me.

“Where. Did. They. Go?” I punctuated each word of the question, letting him know I wasn’t backing down until he came clean.

Dean took that moment to look me straight in the eye, with an intense, almost angry gaze.

“I said, don’t worry about it”, his voice rumbled quietly from deep in his chest.

I slammed my nearly empty beer down on the nightstand and sprang to my feet.

“Sam found that fucking demon, didn’t he?”

“Listen –“

“No!” I rushed toward Dean, getting right up in his face. “I was supposed to kill it! God damn it!!”

I turned to the dresser near the door, flinging drawers open, searching for clothes to change into. Dean just stayed in the doorway, whiskey in one hand, beer in the other. He placed them both on top of the dresser.

“Come on, what are you doing?” asked Dean.

“I’m getting dressed, you idiot! I’m killing that piece of unholy shit! Tell me where they are, now!”

“Look, Cas found the demon, okay? And it’s got half a dozen others with it.” Dean fumed. “So I ain’t telling you where they are and you’re not going anywhere!”

“The hell I’m not!” I snarled. “That thing killed my sister. MY sister, MY family! I’m taking it down! Not Cas, not Sam, not you. ME!!”

With a sudden movement, his large hands gripped me tightly on my shoulders, guiding me in a backwards walk as he came all the way inside the room.

“Lexi,” he said through gritted teeth, “They’ve got this, okay? You think we were gonna let you go after that thing yourself? Even let you be around when we found it? Are you crazy?”

Hot, seething outrage boiled in my blood. Tears stung my eyes as a sense of betrayal layered itself on top of everything else I was feeling.

“How could you?! God damn it, Dean! I wanted to end that demon. I NEED to –“

Dean shook me by the shoulders, once but hard.

“Dammit, stop it! Sammy and Cas, they’re taking care of it. Hell, they’ve probably already ganked it, along with its buddies. So calm down, and let’s watch the movie”.

I squirmed against him, pushing, slapping at his hands on my shoulders as I tried to get away from his grip.

“Fucking let me go!”

“Hey, hey,” he coaxed, trying in vain to calm me, “This is for your own good, okay? No sense in you getting yourself killed. I know you want revenge, but trust me, you don’t. It doesn’t feel as good as you think it will.”

“For my own good?! You think I can’t handle myself?” I shouted.

“Lexi, drop this, NOW!”, Dean boomed.

The tears threatend to run over at any moment. I felt defeated. So tired, so sad, so angry…

The anger overtook me. I raised my arm up and behind me, palm opening and sailing forward on a path towards Dean’s face. But his hunter reflexes saw it coming probably before I even thought of it. In one swift movement, he grabbed my wrist, kicked the door shut behind him, and whirled me around. In a flash, he had me pinned against the door, both of my wrists now in a tight grip on either side if my head. One thick thigh was wedged in between my legs as he leaned into me, applying the weight of his body against mine.

“Wanna try that again, sweetheart?”

 His voice has become low and fierce, nearly menacing. I choked back a gasp, determined to keep my voice steady.

 “I’d love to, because next time I won’t miss,” I spat.

 “Oh, I’d love to see you try. You know, I’ve had about enough of your smart-ass mouth, princess. Now shut up before I make you shut up.”

 “Fuck you.”

 “Fine”

His full lips crashed into mine with a bruising kiss. I whimpered into his mouth as I felt his tongue skim across my lips, insistent and demanding. Involuntarily, my lips parted, letting him in. I groaned as he claimed my mouth, our tongues twisting and stroking in tandem, the taste of whiskey and peppermint heightening the sensation. His kiss was hungry, powerful…he drew back, taking my lower lip between his teeth and biting down firmly, eliciting a gasp from me.

My wrists were still pinned against the wood of the door in his large hands. I felt his lips on my jawline as he peppered kisses down my neck and back upwards, his hot breath against my ear.

“Is this what it’s gonna take to shut you up?” he asked, his voice thick with lust.

Dean’s kiss, the weight of him against me, the vulnerability I felt without the use of my hands was intoxicating me. I finally let desire consume me, feeling it push aside every other thought and emotion. Fuck, I wanted him now, I’ve wanted him since the first night those emerald green eyes looked at me.

I could only answer him with a whimper as I ground myself lightly against his thigh.

“I guess so,” he muttered.

His hands left my face to rest against the door behind me, boxing me in and against him as our lips met in hungry open-mouthed kisses. A small groan escaped him as I bit down lightly on his lower lip, tracing my tongue over it, begging him to let me in. I breathed heavily when he did, relishing in the feeling of our tongues meeting, exploring, and entwining. I savored the taste of his mouth as my hand traveled higher up his head where I grabbed a handful of his hair. With a grunt, he kissed me harder, his hands moving from their place on the door to the sides of my body. My spine tingled as I felt them run from my shoulders, down the sides of my body, lightly brushing each breast as they made their way down to my waist. I mimicked his actions, stopping to completely undo the loose knot of his bathrobe.

Dean pulled me even tighter against him. I could feel his erection thick and solid against my stomach, through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. I pressed against him, running my hands up his chest and shoving the robe completely off of him.

He pulled away from my mouth, his breathing heavy and ragged.

“So,” he said, his voice deep and barely a whisper, “you think I wouldn’t know what to do with you, huh?”

I dipped my head to latch on to his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin.

He hissed as I bit down into his flesh. I dragged my lips up the side of his neck, stopping at his ear.

“Why don’t you prove me wrong?” I challenged him.

I felt him grab a fistful of my hair, tugging lightly to guide my mouth back to his. He claimed my lips again, kissing me hard, his tongue now dominating mine. With one hand holding the back of my head and the other at the small of my back, he turned us around, walking us backward towards the bed.

When the back of Dean’s knees felt the mattress, he sat himself on the edge of the bed. He gripped my waist as I stood in front of him, positioning me in between his open legs. My head fell back with a sigh as Dean ran his hands over my clothed breasts, brushing his thumbs against my hardening nipples. Aching to feel his touch on my bare skin, I grabbed the hem of my tank top and lifted it over my head, tossing it aside. Pulling me close, he took a breast into his mouth, sucking and licking it thoroughly until he turned his attention to the other. The feel of his mouth on me set every nerve on fire, spreading heat deep inside me, dampness pooling between my legs.

His lips travelled over every part of my chest, he placed hot open kisses up my sternum, over my collarbone, back down to my swollen nipples.

“Dean,” I moaned, uttering his name like a prayer.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He asked between kisses.

“I need you.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he answered, his dark green eyes staring into mine. I felt his hands on the outside of my hips, brushing the fabric of my shorts. His thumbs stopped at my hips, grabbing the waistband and sliding them down my legs.

His calloused fingers danced their way back up the inside of my thighs, letting one graze against my core. He sucked in a breath as he easily slid a finger inside of me, pumping it in and out agonizingly slow.

“So fucking wet...,” he rasped. He took his finger out and ran it slowly against my center, stopping to circle my aching clit. I steadied myself with my hands on his shoulders, a mix of moans and sighs tumbling from my lips. My hips rocked forward, craving his touch, my body wanting more.

“You like how touch you, sweetheart?” he purred.

“Yes,” I answered, barley managing a whisper.

He stroked me gently, teasing my entrance. “You want my fingers inside your tight little pussy?”

I could only answer with a nod, my breath escaping me.

“Lay down,” he ordered.

As I crawled on to the bed, Dean stood up. I ran my hands over my breasts and down my stomach as I watched him first take off his shirt, followed quickly by his pants. I licked my lips as I stared at him, taking in his toned body – defined arms and thighs thick with muscle, his strong abs and chest, the dark ink of the anti-possession tattoo gleaming in the dim light. My hands continued to run over my own body as I drank in the sight of him and his perfect, huge cock. He was rock hard, the tip already glistening.

“Touch yourself for me” he said.

Inexpiably wanting to do nothing but obey him, I let my fingers slide down to my slick folds, brushing them against my entrance and my clit. I watched him as he gripped his length loosely, stroking himself slowly. I could feel the heat coiling in my core, tightening with every stroke of my finger on myself as he played with his cock.

“Put your finger inside of you” he demanded, “I want you to feel how hot and soaked you are for me”.

I complied, slipping my middle finger deep inside of me. I whimpered at my own touch, knowing it was not enough, aching what I really wanted.

“Dean, please” I moaned.

With a sly grin, he released himself and came close to me, grabbing my hand. He raised it to his mouth and sucked on the finger that I had coated with my juices. With a satisfied groan, he hoisted himself on top of me, his chin resting on my stomach, his whiskers prickling against my heated skin. I propped myself up on my elbows and forearms as he kissed my across my abdomen back and forth to each of my hips. His dark emerald eyes met mine as he returned to my center.

“Lay back,”, he crooned positioning my legs over his shoulders. “I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

My head crashed against the pillow as cried out, that first slow lick of his wide tongue against my folds sending shockwaves through my entire body. He laved at me gingerly, dipping his in tongue inside me with slow thrusts, then trailing up to my swelling clit, flicking over it with not nearly enough pressure. A quiet, satisfied chuckle crept across his lips as my hips reared toward his mouth, my body instinctively screaming for more. I finally grabbed the hair on the top of his head and ground myself against him, unable to hold back my need. He responded with steady, circling pressure on my clit, bringing me higher and higher. I keened and moaned, writhing against his mouth, feeling just the hint of my orgasm building.

I whimpered when he pulled away. I felt his fingers at my entrance again, teasing relentlessly.

“God, you taste amazing. You love having your sweet pussy licked, don’t you,” he said, sliding two fingers deep inside of me, somehow hitting my sweet spot immediately.

“Yes,” I almost screamed, “God yes, right there Dean, please don’t fucking stop!”

“That’s right baby, scream for me, scream for me when I make you come.”

He dipped his head back down, his gorgeous mouth sucking and licking my clit while his perfectly crooked fingers pumped in an out at a steady pace. I felt my legs start shaking, my toes curling, that familiar heat building and building.

“Oh my god, Dean, fuck, I’m gonna come, I –“

He hummed loudly in approval against me, the vibration sending me over the edge. I screamed out his name as he rode me through my orgasm, his fingers continuing to work me inside, his mouth worshipping me, sending me higher than I thought possible, not stopping his ministrations until I begged.

Dean crept up alongside me, tilting my chin towards his as he devoured me in a kiss. He stroked me as I came down, catching my breath. He laid his arm across my chest, nuzzling his head in the crook of my neck. He let me rest, placing feather light kisses in that sensitive spot he nestled his head into, trailing up to nibble gently on my earlobe. It ignited a spark in me. I swiftly brought myself up and pushed him on his back, straddling him over one muscled thigh.

I grabbed his cock, stroking up and down his length and brushing my thumb over the tip. He moaned as he watched me, pumping him slowly as I ground my dripping core against his leg. I kissed his stomach, his lower abdomen, inhaling his scent as my lips travelled closer and closer to his cock. Grabbing the base, I wrapped my lips around the tip, swirling my tongue around him.

His hips bucked forward as l licked and teased. Opening my mouth, I took as much of him as I could, wrapping my fingers around what I couldn’t. A deep growl rumbled from his chest as my mouth and fingers moved up and down.

“That’s it, baby…take it…” he urged as I savored him slowly, swirling my tongue around the sides, the tip. I ran my other hand up the inside of his thigh, kneading and caressing the hard muscles on the way to his sac. When I cupped him in my hand, Dean almost shouted out. His fingers tangled in my hair, pushing my head down as I fondled, pumped and sucked him. I moaned, my lips vibrating on his cock, his groans and grunts becoming louder and more frequent.

Dean let go of my hair and placed his hands on either side of head.

“Stop. I don’t wanna come in your mouth,” he breathed.

I released him, resting my hands on his legs.

In a flash he sat up, wrapping his arms around me. He took my head in his hands and kissed me, ravenously and insistent.

Breaking away, he maneuvered so he was on top again.

“I’m gonna come inside your tight little cunt” he growled.

He lined up to my center, stroking my folds with his cock. My back arched instinctively, my hands fisting the sheets. I hummed as I tried to writhe against him, urging him to enter me.

“Would you like that, baby? Want me to fill you up with my hot cum?”

“Dean,” I whined, “Yes, please, I want you inside me.”

Dean slid himself inside of me slowly, letting me adjust to his size. He moaned loudly with pleasure when he felt my heat wrap around him. He began a lazy pace, pulling almost all the way out before pushing himself in again.

“Still dripping for me. God, you feel amazing, so perfect…”

We rocked at the agonizingly slow momentum he set. He stretched me deliciously, filling me completely. I found myself rocking my hips faster, feeling the heat rise is my core again. I let my hands explore the muscles of his back, feeling every dip and curve until I made my way down to his perfect ass. I grabbed him, pulling him into me as I thrust forward.

“Dean,” I begged, panting.

He pulled himself out of me, climbing out of the bed. He stood at the side of the mattress, grabbing my calves and guiding me towards him, my legs hanging over the side. He lined himself up at my entrance, barely pushing the tip in.

“You ready to get fucked, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice rough and smoky. “Ready to take every inch of my hard cock?”

He didn’t give me time to answer as he slammed himself inside with one hard thrust, burying himself to the hilt. Dean pistoned inside of me, fucking me ruthlessly, my moans drowning out any sounds he was making. I could feel my orgasm building, clawing at my insides with every stroke of his cock as he hit my g-spot over and over.

Dean moved a hand between us, his thumb finding and rubbing my clit, igniting every cell in my body.

“You gonna be a good girl and come for me again?”

I could only manage a strangled moan as the tightness begged to be unraveled. Trembling, I let the heat wash over me, no longer able to make a sound as the intense pleasure choked me.

“That's my girl...yeah, that’s it, sweetheart…wanna feel you come all over me…come on baby, give it to me…”

His words tipped me over, white hot ecstasy washing all around and through me. I screamed his name again as I came undone around him, hard and intense, my walls gripping his cock like a vice. My screams became pathetic whimpers and I felt his thrusts becoming harder, more erratic.

With a final rough thrust and he came hard, unloading deep inside of me, a litany of curses tumbling from his lips. He bent over to kiss me, his cock twitching inside of me as he came down from his high. He pulled out slowly, his warm cum coating the inside of my thighs.

Dean found his t-shirt and used it to clean me off. He laid back down on the bed, gathering me in his arms. We lay there in silence for a few moments, enjoying each other’s warmth, tracing indistinct patterns on one another’s skin.

“Hey,” I finally said, “I’m sorry.”

“For what now? Jesus darlin', you apologize too much.” he asked.

“I’m sorry I got so pissed off. And that I tried to slap you”

Dean laughed. He looked at me, his eyes smoldering and that sexy smirk on his face.

“You should try it more often.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me here or on Tumblr [@rockhoochie](https://rockhoochie.tumblr.com/)


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